


fair play

by pirouetta (fabledwings)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3122351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabledwings/pseuds/pirouetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuugo likes variety, just not the kind that involves the spelling of his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fair play

**Author's Note:**

> so this is inspired by [this wonderful fancomic](http://aatsuyactic.tumblr.com/post/106761418552/the-only-coffee-shop-au-id-ever-need-tbh) by the wonderful maki! i don't this this fic could ever come close to matching that and with my lack of confidence in writing humour... but the idea sounded too fun to not attempt!

So, Yuugo’s had a pretty terrible morning. Fact, but if anyone said straight to his face that, “Geez, you look terrible, dude,” that someone’s got a fist asking to be in their face. That’s how terrible his morning is.

Let’s not mention that he had had an all-nighter finishing a paper; ‘course it’s done, and he had promptly passed out on his desk and had woken up with the worst case of sore neck ever and found he had drooled on the rubrics for said paper, and he’s pretty sure the professor wants it back since he had specifically made sure everyone wrote their name on it. Ah well, not that the professor didn’t dislike him already.

The resident cat had completely ignored him when he went to pet it as usual, too, hissing when he inched near. Yuugo had stood rooted to the spot and stared after its retreating figure, downcast and heartbroken, feeling like he had let it down somehow, and then rushed to the café to get his daily caffeine fix—

—And stubbed his foot against a lamppost. This day couldn't get any worse.

An espresso, with generous amounts of milk and sugar, he tells the new guy at the counter (who looks vaguely familiar), also states his name for the heck of it. His eyes are still half-lidded as he grabs his order and goes to sit across some tall, grumpy-looking guy in a pair of shades. (Really, shades indoors?)

The coffee, it turns out, is more than capable of stealing the job of whatever causes diabetes. It’s sufficient to wake him up, at least, but he makes it through just a quarter before heading to the bin.

And then Yuugo sees his name, written in bold, black, capital letters.

**_YOU GO._ **

He crushes the cup with so much force that the drink, still warm, splashes out and spills on his hand. He hisses as another barista, red-haired and panicky, rushes over with a bunch of napkins.

* * *

His professor, by some miracle, didn’t appear to notice the faint, darker patch on the rubrics sheet, but Yuugo had caught him wiggling his nose a little. He should thank that girl in the hoodie that sits behind him, treat her to a cuppa or something, though he didn’t quite have a decent fabricated explanation for spraying the perfume he borrowed off her onto a piece of paper right under her nose. Purple hair suits her too, he recalls as he steps into the café the next morning.

Yuugo reaches the counter, orders the same as yesterday. He’d spent the entire night playing _Synchro Accel_ , and finally beat the previous high score (by some guy who named his red motorcycle **_Yu_** _sei- **Go**_ —the nerve) and had dozed off content, had dreams of speeding down endless highways on his own customized motorcycle, the wind in his face, his heart beating in overdrive… until his alarm dragged him back to reality and his nearly overdue course applications (keyword ‘nearly’).

And the cat had let him pet it, so he's in significantly better spirits and tells the barista, the same one as yesterday, his own name and makes sure to e-nun-ci-ate every syllable.

The barista hands him his drink, and Yuugo gulps down a mouthful before glancing down.

_Yuugou_.

...Well, it's an improvement. In the taste as well, too.

He glances back at the counter as he takes a seat by the window, watches the barista write the name of the next unfortunate customer. To his blathering dismay that soon turns into annoyance, the customer _smiles_ when she looks at her cup, a full smile that tints her cheeks red, pink pigtails bobbing as she breezes past him and out the door. Yuugo glares at the barista's mop of unruly black as he turns to fill the next person's order.

* * *

_HYUGO_.

What in the universes is this guy's problem?!

At least he makes a wicked banana shake. Still, to drink it from a cup with his own name spelled horrendously incorrect on it, Yuugo can't quite muster up his appreciation.

He chews on his straw as he delivers a piercing stare at the counter. The redhead from the other day's bustling about further in the back with a bright grin, as opposed to Mr. Can't-Ever-Spell-A-Name-Right, who has his lips set firm and his eyes droopy and uninterested. Also, did everyone like their hair purple nowadays? Slicked up and to the side, to boot.

(Yuugo neglects to remember the mop of blue and yellow upon his own head, and therefore is not one to talk about another person’s taste in hairstyles.)

You know, now that he squints a little, their faces are kind of alike, the two baristas. Their contrasting moods not taken into account, they could be brothers. Maybe they are. Yuugo’s pretty sure he's seen them somewhere else before, but…

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and reads the message. Messages. 

_[HEY get me something from the café won’t ya]  
_ _[ALSO I FINISHED YOUR CHIPS I bought new ones don’t worry xoxo]_

Yuugo's ready to ignore the message until he remembers the spanner that came flying his way last time he didn't do as his roommate asked (that could have clipped his head off, he had protested, but she had waved it off, saying his head was too thick to put a dent in). He grins wryly and taps out a quick response. He chucks the shake when he’s done, and gets back in line at the counter. The redhead taking orders at the moment; Yuugo ponders him for a bit.

Five minutes later, Yuugo leaves the café with a spring in his step, two cups of hot chocolate in their holder dangling from his hand. On one of them, in pretty, cursive handwriting, _Yūgo_.

* * *

“The hell’s wrong with you?”

Yuugo ordered a green tea latte today, because he likes variety, just not the kind that involves the spelling of his name. It’s the middle of the week and just after the lunch hour, and he knows for a point that the café is mostly void of its usual crowd at this time, perfect for a confrontation. He slams his free hand down on the counter, and holds up his cup.

The barista doesn’t even seem fazed at Yuugo’s outburst, expression as lazy and unblinking as ever. Now that Yuugo actually has a good look at him, he finds that the barista’s name tag says _Ute_. What kind of name is _that_? Another language? Did it explain his inability to romanize names incorrectly? For the matter, how is it pronounced because all his brain comes up with is _oo-tay_.

Well, all he needs to know is _OO-TAY_ is clearly messing with him.

On his cup of green tea latte, in squarish, neat strokes, is the kanji for _fusion._

_「融合」_

“What’s the hold-up?” A head of red—now topped with _green_ too _,_ what the hell, Christmas was months ago—pops up behind Ute and leans over his shoulder. “Woah, creative.”

“Creative?—Wait, what’re you doing all impressed?”

He _liked_ this kid too, dammit!

“Well, there is a very good explanation—”

“He put me up to it,” Ute offers.

“And you went along!” The redhead— _Yuuya_ , it says on his nametag—protests, and shoves an elbow into the other’s hip. “But, yeah, my idea.”

Yuugo splutters for a bit, not quite believing that he’d been directing half his annoyance at the wrong person.

“And it was entertaining to see your reaction—and everyone else’s,” Ute shrugs, and finally shows some other emotion on his face; if only it wasn’t _mischief_.

He doesn’t know whether to be relieved at not being the only one subject to this torture. But, there was that girl—

“See, my dear brother Yuuto here—” _huh._ What happened to _oo-tay_ , “—his tag came in with his name incorrectly printed,” Yuuya slings an arm around said brother and points to said tag, “…and he has to wear it for a whole _week_ , so I thought he shouldn’t suffer alone, so ’hey, why not just mess up everyone’s names even if you heard it right the first time?’”

“And you win best reactions.”

Yuugo groans. He feels tired all of a sudden. “… You think that’s funny?”

Both nod, scarily in sync. “I think you'll agree with us,” Yuuya adds.

“And what makes you say that?”

Yuuya laughs, and pulls Ut-… Yuuto closer so their faces are almost touching. “Call it a hunch, but… _Yuugo_ , have you looked into a mirror lately?”

**Author's Note:**

> revised 11/3/2015


End file.
